


A Ghost Is My Wingman

by Lord_Cthulhu



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Based On Buzzfeed Unsolved, Best Friends, Bromance to Romance, Craig Tucker Being An Asshole, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ghost Hunters, Idiots in Love, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Spooky, Trapped In A Closet, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Cthulhu/pseuds/Lord_Cthulhu
Summary: A Cryde ghost hunter AU to satiate my own needs. Fluffy bromance to romance because self care. +Some ghostly scares.
Relationships: Clyde Donovan & Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan/Craig Tucker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	A Ghost Is My Wingman

**Author's Note:**

> I made more like I promised, folks! This time much longer with a funky AU. I started this in like October and finally finished it lmao. Thanks for all the love on my last Cryde oneshot also <33

"How do you do that?"

"Pfft– do what?"

"Eat that many tacos. You're gonna make yourself sick."

"Sounds like something a coward Would say, Tucker."

"You're disgusting."

It was 8 pm and this run down Taco Bell only had two patrons. Craig Tucker and Clyde Donovan, here to investigate the haunted Murphy house just down the street. It was a heavily recommended destination, given to them by their fans over the interwebs. Craig often wonders  _ how _ ; how this shitty show ever got traction on YouTube. They were two dumbasses straight out of college, traveling to 'haunted' locations, only to get nothing and listen to Clyde grasp at straws the whole way back. He didn't even think they were that funny.

But hey, the world works in mysterious ways, right?

Craig took a long sip of his soda as he zoomed onto Clyde with his camera, catching him in the act of voring five tacos in one sitting.

"Have anything to say to the fans back at home, Donovan?"

Clyde's head whipped up, finally noticing the camera locked onto him. He nearly choked, trying to get down his mouthful of ground beef as quickly as possible. He was definitely blushing and upset by the time he had swallowed.

"Craig!! Turn that off, I'm trying to eat in peace!" Clyde whined, stubbornly turning away and wiping his mouth. He honestly didn't care if Craig watched him swallow his dinner whole, they were close. Too close, even. But their fans did  _ not  _ need to know about Clyde's eating habits. He already sucked his stomach in whenever they recorded below the waist.

"Hey man, it's not my fault that you eat like a bear who's stocking for hibernation." Craig chuckled dryly, giving Clyde a lopsided smile. This only seemed to fluster him more.

Clyde pouted and pushed the rest of his tacos away, suddenly at a loss of appetite. Craig rolled his eyes at Clyde's pettiness and let out a sigh,

"You're so sensitive, we can edit it out, dumbass." Craig reminded, sticking out his tongue blandly. "Why don't you just fill them in on the history of this place?" He hummed, gesturing to the camera in his hands.

Clyde seemed to perk up at this suggestion. He was never good with research papers in college, but with their haunted locations, he went all in.

"Good idea, Craigo!" Clyde grinned at the cameraman before honing in on the camera itself. He made sure to lower his tone to add drama, they would add in spooky effects later. Their fans ate that shit up.

"This September 13th, Friday the 13th May I add, is a very special one." Clyde could practically feel Craig rolling his eyes at the 'Friday The 13th' comment, but he carried on. "Because we are going to be entering  _ and sleeping in _ this season's.. demonic household." Clyde could barely contain the grin he gave to the camera. He was always like this before an investigation. Excited and naive to how scared he would actually be once they entered the house. It was amusing, but also quite exasperating to deal with Clyde, terrified and clinging onto Craig with his life. Especially when it was Craig who had to calm him down.

"Yes, The Murphy house is reported to be cursed with a strong demonic energy. An energy which the inhabitants had lovingly named Kenneth." Clyde crooned, grinning as he heard Craig snicker behind camera.

"While Kenneth is a pretty cool name to us, it's one of terror for the inhabitants of the Murphy household. Kenneth is known to leave hand shaped bruises on victims' thighs, arms, and neck. He's also said to whisper all the ways you could be killed during the night." 

"Imagine trying to get laid in that house. Someone whispering 'suffocation' into your ear would definitely be a turnoff." Clyde added, sort of ruining their spooky mood. Craig smirked subtly,

"Wouldn't be a turn off for me." He hummed casually, clearly trying not to laugh as Clyde floundered at the unexpected response.

" _ Oh my god–  _ you kinky motherfucker!" Clyde laughed brashly, "You fucking  _ suck _ ."

"You know you'd be into it." Craig pushed the joke relentlessly, smiling at every response he got from Clyde.

"Well we're not gonna fuck in a hounted house!!" Clyde was blushing, but honestly too wrapped up in this dumb bit they were doing to care. "This demonic entity has literally ruined people's lives! Have some respect." Clyde scolded. Craig rolled his eyes, finally shutting off the camera.

"Well if the ghost isn't kinky, do we even wanna show up?"

–––––

After a quick taxi ride with many ghostly threesome jokes along the way, Craig and Clyde found themselves stood before the Murphy house.

The place was a family home, two floors and a worn down playground out front. The windows were all shuttered and the white paint outside was chipped. The place has definitely been worn over the years. Clyde could practically hear creaking floorboards already.

Craig instinctively pulled out his camera, gathering shots of the creepy looking house.

Clyde had wandered forward to the broken down playground. Mostly wood, save for the single swing set. He perked up and gestured enthusiastically for Craig to come over.

"Look, dude. You see how creepy these swings are? Sometimes people see a  _ full bodied apparition _ here! A little girl!" Clyde stated this confidently "that means there's two supernatural entities occupying this house! Who knows how many more!"

Craig blinked blankly at Clyde a few times.

"And you're excited about this? I thought you got scared shitless of the demonic stuff." Craig hummed, casually reminding all of their viewers that Clyde was a pussy.

"She's a little girl, Craig. She's not gonna spook us." Clyde rolls his eyes, "plus, if it got your tall ass to believe in the supernatural I'd do anything." Clyde grinned and gave Craig's shoulder a rough shove.

"Oh yeah, those floorboards are gonna be  _ real _ scary. I'm practically shaking with anticipation." Every word dripped with Craig's loving sarcasm. Clyde growled and crossed his arms,

"Well if you're so confident that this place is a dud, why don't you go first?" Clyde urged, gesturing towards the front door impatiently.

"Well because that would be rude. A gentleman always lets the lady in first." Craig spoke with easily mocked sincerity, raising his eyebrows at Clyde's gaping expression.

"Ohmygosh– SHUT UP!" Clyde barked.

The camera was aggressively snatched from Craig's grasps and he was easily being dragged to the door. Damn. He often forgot how strong Clyde was. It was kind of exhilarating knowing his best friend could snap him in half at a moment's notice, but that was an embarrassing fantasy that could be stored away for later. He let Clyde thrust him towards the door without complaint. He had a sense that Clyde  _ really  _ didn't want to go in first, so he probably would have given into the plea anyway. 

Opening the door was a hassle in itself, but once opened, Craig was able to step inside. It was dingy and smelled like dust. Craig's nose scrunched up slightly in distaste.

"I think I'm more likely to get an asthma attack in here than a paranormal one." He huffed. Clyde was still outside, peering over Craig's shoulder,

"Whatever, dude– do you see anything??" Clyde's voice was smaller than normal and Craig felt his heart squeeze.

"Why don't you see for yourself, Donovan?" Craig responded blankly and tugged Clyde inside by the collar of his hoodie, eliciting a sharp yelp.

"Watch it!" Clyde whined, looking flustered. Though It was too dark to see a blush. Craig scoffed quietly and nudged Clyde's shoulder with his own,

"Why don't you watch the  _ camera,  _ man? You've been pointing it at the floor like this entire time. I don't want my sneakers on some weird foot website." Craig let go of Clyde's collar gently, wandering deeper into the house. Clyde stumbled behind him, scrambling to hold up the camera and get everything.

"That's only for bare feet, dude." Clyde bit the inside of his cheek as he scanned the dark living room apprehensively.

"You would know." Craig rolled his eyes, "I can hold the camera– your camera work is always shaky." Craig reasoned and held out his hand to take it back. Clyde looked like he was going to complain again, but reconsidered. Craig was right anyway. 

After giving away the camera, Clyde had his hands free to touch the walls and peeling wallpaper. 

"That definitely isn't sanitary." Craig was already itching to grab the hand sanitizer that was in his pocket, but he was shushed by Clyde.

"It's not that bad– I'm just trying to feel the.. aura..?" Clyde sounded unsure, "I dunno, I read it online." This blatant statement really convinced Craig that Clyde didn't know what the hell he was doing. He rolled his eyes but continued recording anyway. After a few more minutes of 'feeling the aura' Clyde turned to the center of the room.

"uh.. if there are any spirits or entities in this house. Please make your presence known by maybe moving something? Touching us–" 

"You could rip us apart limb for limb. Maybe get a taste. Try the bone marrow, it's delicious." Craig rudely butted in. It was rare that he got bored so early into the investigation, but the thought of staying here all night bored him half to death. And coincidentally, the only thing he had for amusement was Clyde's stupid cute face whenever Craig said something absurd.

Clyde sputtered in surprise, pulling the exact expression Craig was looking for.

"Ghosts don't have taste buds, doofus!" Clyde spoke rushedly, looking as if he were trying not to offend any ghosts. Craig blinked,

" _ That's  _ what upsets you about my sentence?" Clyde rolled his eyes apprehensively at this, ignoring Craig's obvious bait to banter. Clyde puffed up his chest and once again looked into the dark abyss of an abandoned living room. Not very alive anymore.

"Please ignore my rude friend, Kenneth. We mean no harm and we only wanna talk." Clyde looked around anxiously after this, as if the room would suddenly crumble. The house wasn't very structurally sound in the first place, but it was more atmospheric tension than anything. After a minute of silence (Craig knew when to let Clyde be serious about these endeavors) Clyde knew he had to break out the 'big guns'.

"I'm gonna use a device that might help you communicate a bit easier with us–" Craig's eyes widened as Clyde's hand snuck into his bag. Oh no. 

After a bit of shuffling, Clyde pulled out a round, medium sized device with several buttons and knobs. The spirit box. Craig groaned,

"Dude, I didn't bring any fucking ear plugs– you know how I feel about that shit." Craig complained. Clyde stared Craig dead in the eyes for a tense moment, simply clicking the power button without thinking twice. Craig flinched and Clyde grinned mischievously. He was still mad about the taco thing earlier it seemed. 

"Sorry, good sir. But I left all my fucks to give at home." Clyde laughed brashly over the static noise that now flooded the room. He fiddled with a few knobs and the ear bleeding static dulled down to a simple white noise that resided in the background.

Craig grit his teeth so hard that he could feel it in his gums. He looked as if he were going to go absolutely feral, but Clyde continued chatting up some ghost that wasn't even there.

"If you'd like to talk with us, repeat our names back to us. That's Craig–" he gestured over to his lanky friend "–and I'm Clyde." He gave the empty space in front of him a determined smile, referencing back to himself.

The boys now fell silent, listening intently for any sort of noise from the spirit box.  _ Anything _ to indicate some spiritual presence or direct contact.

The response was white noise.

–––––

Clyde was fiddling with the video camera on the dresser, mumbling to himself.

Craig watched him, then turned away with a sigh. He pulled off his hat and ran long fingers through his hair.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, man." Craig sat on the edge of the bed they would be sharing. The master bedroom was said to be the most concentrated spot of activity, so naturally that was where they chose to sleep. It was stupid, but at least it was spacious. Clyde also didn't seem too pleased at the moment, so Craig guessed that the guy might need some space right about now.

".. I'm not." Clyde huffed, ceasing his fiddling and letting his arms flop to the side. He must have already pressed record. They typically liked to record the room they slept in just in case they caught something. Craig rolled his eyes.

"You don't need to lie, I can practically feel the self loathing from here. It's not your fault, the place just isn't very active." Craig had already pulled out his phone boredly, scrolling through the space tag on Instagram. Clyde pouted sadly at Craig's uninterested face. If Craig already knew he was upset, might as well reap the benefits of whining.

"Yeah, but I didn't think we'd get  _ nothing! _ " He groaned and flopped onto the queen sized bed. "Zero! Zip! Nada! Not a peep!" He frowned and stayed quiet for a second. He knew Craig wouldn't speak unless prompted to, "do you think we're gonna have to trash the episode?" He asked, staring up at the textured ceiling.

Craig seemed to consider his question, shutting off his phone and moving to slither underneath the covers.

"Why'd you say that? It's not like we get bundles of evidence in active places either." He said neutrally, laying on his side, facing away from Clyde. Clyde adamantly scooted closer in result.

"I know– it's just, we got  _ zero  _ here! And, I honestly think I was off my commentary game. Y'know? People won't watch." He bit the inside of his cheek, staring at the back of Craig's T-shirt. Craig scoffed,

"So what?" He was mumbling by now. "We started recording our investigations just for fun at first, right? We got viewers on accident." Clyde pressed his lips together firmly, processing the information.

"You saying we shouldn't care about our fans?" Clyde nudged Craig's leg with his foot, just in case the string bean was dozing off. Craig grunted,

" _ No.  _ I'm saying that they watch us for a reason. Some will like the episode, some won't. That's it." Craig tilted his head slightly so that Clyde could see the outline of his profile even when he was turned away. "All that really matters is that we had a good time. So enjoy the rest of it, doofus." 

If Clyde squinted, he swore he could see a smile on Craig's lips. He grinned broadly just at the prospect.

Maybe it was stupid to stress so much. He did have a pretty fun time, and sleeping next to Craig always gave him a fluttery feeling– maybe their stay here hadn't been that bad after all.

–––––

**_C R A C K_ **

Clyde woke up with a start, sitting up so quickly that he bonked heads with Craig, who had apparently already been awake. It was 3 am.

"What the fu–!?" Clyde's mouth was immediately covered by a cold hand, smothering his attempt at screaming. His heart rate went through the roof, but he was calmed by a sudden light and bright blue eyes staring into his. Craig.

"Dude, you're so fucking loud." Craig had turned on his phone flashlight and slowly removed his hand from Clyde's lips when he felt the other relaxing. Clyde's dopey face when Craig removed his hand was almost humorous.

"But– I heard a noise, you've had to have heard it too, right? Why were you awake?" Clyde asked questions eagerly, his hands gripping onto Craig's shoulders. The queen sized blankets, were piled up around the two, since Clyde was an absolute mess and had kicked up all the sheets during the night. 

"Calm down, man. Yeah, I heard it. I was up looking at cat videos and texting Tricia. It was just the wind–" just as Craig said this, another loud slam came from somewhere in the dining room. Clyde's head whipped around so fast that Craig worried his neck Would snap.

"Don't–" Craig could tell what was going to happen and attempted to stop it, but Clyde was already flinging himself out of bed.

"We have to investigate!" He yelped, grabbing the camera and staring into the lense. Craig watched with a deadpan gaze as Clyde babbled to the camera about their current situation and how they were going to go investigate the dining room.

Craig resigned to the reality of spending the rest of his night running around the house with Clyde, chasing their own tails. 

He pulled himself out of bed lethargically, grabbing their 'Ghost Hunting' bag and swinging it in the direction of Clyde, who caught it clumsily.

"Watch it, dude! Grab the camera." Clyde urged quickly, already spinning around and moving out the bedroom door. Craig sighed and did as he was told. He followed after Clyde sourly, looking around the large dining room with the camera perched on his shoulder. Nothing was out of place. Nothing except a single wooden chair, turned over on it’s back. Clyde let out a dramatic gasp when he caught sight of the chair, looking mildly spooked.

“Holy shit.. There’s no way that was from the wind.” Craig rolled his eyes. Literally anything other than spirits could have caused this. It was just some fucking gravity. But Clyde seemed to carry on his investigation despite all this, “Was that you Kenneth? Are you trying to tell us something? I’m all ears, dude!” Clyde called this out with his head tilted up towards the ceiling. All was silent until Clyde practically leaped out of his skin, jumping backwards and stumbling into Craig’s chest.

“Holyshitholyshit!” Clyde’s eyes were blown wide and Craig had to use his free hand to grapple onto his friend’s arm, afraid Clyde would topple.

“What??” Craig asked, a mix of tired and actually worried. Clyde looked like he could vomit.

“Something cold grabbed onto my ear!” Clyde babbled fearfully, leaving his back pressed against Craig’s chest for some sort of security. “I swear I could feel it! It was physical, like a real human hand!” he swallowed thickly.

Craig's eyebrows knitted together. He didn't believe anything actually touched Clyde, but he looked so shaken.

"Are you sure you actually felt it? It wasn't just your mind?" Clyde had turned around to face Craig and his eyes flashed with hurt, looking defensive. Clyde shook his head aggressively,

_ "I did!"  _ His voice boomed and there was a loud slam as Clyde shouted. Craig found himself stumbling backwards, the breath beaten from his lungs. He nearly lost his balance. He looked up at Clyde with large, confused eyes.

"I– Did you push me?" He asked breathlessly, his heart beating quickly to get a grip on reality and fucking  _ breathe _ . The angry fire had gone out from Clyde's eyes, instead filling with fearful tears. Craig had briefly thought about how they would have to cut this out. Clyde didn't like to cry on camera.

"I didn't touch you!" Clyde stammered, though he didn't look too sure of himself. Did he? He was pretty angry, though he didn't recall shoving.

"I swear–" he choked on his words and Craig was at his side without another second, placing a hand on Clyde's shoulder.

"I believe you okay? Just– let's pack it up. We have enough drama for one episode." Craig murmured, absentmindedly squeezing Clyde's shoulder. "I'll grab the thermal cameras from the halls, you go grab our shit from the bedroom. No more talking to ghosts, alright dumbass?" Craig huffed, and to his relief, Clyde laughed. It was coarse, but a laugh nonetheless.

"Ugh, sorry– yeah. No more ghosts." Clyde smiled lopsidedly and Craig felt his heart squeeze for the hundredth time that night. Goddamnit, he was too young for heart problems. Clyde was really pushing the risk factor though. 

Craig nodded firmly and retracted his hand from Clyde's shoulder after a beat of hesitation.

"I'll call a cab."

–––––

Craig exhaled slowly as he walked through the long hallway, the floors creaking quietly with every step. He tried to focus on calling a taxi, but long shadows seemed to move only in his peripheral vision. It was distracting, as any time he looked over he saw the same peeling wall. This time however, as he glanced over, there was an ornate mirror hanging there. He saw himself looking back at him and stared longer than he should have.

They say that when you stare in the dark for too long your mind gets bored and starts to play tricks on you. Well, some paint must have been drying in Craig's mind, because he swore that his reflection smiled at him.

Craig flinched back, but his reflection remained still. A small "what the fuck?" later and two hands were shoving roughly at Craig's chest, lurching him backwards. He stumbled over his lanky legs and dropped his phone, collapsing backwards into a nearby closet.

"FUCK!" He cried as his head thunked against a wall, the door slamming shut. His head spun as he was suddenly submerged in pitch darkness, a low groan slipping from his lips.

–––––

Clyde had startled very easily at the ruckus. He turned away from the bag he was packing and looked around with a concerned gaze.

"Craig?" He croaked stiffly, slowly creeping away from his safe space next to the bed. When he didn't gain a response his palms started to sweat and a dreadful knot tied in his stomach.

"Craigo my eggo?" He called out once again, peeking into the dreaded hallway.

Craig wasn't there and Clyde's heart dropped.

He walked into the hallway and scanned the area with a scrutinizing gaze. Craig hadn't even dismantled the camera at the end of the hall. 

He couldn't help but think if Craig even made it to the end of the hall before.. whatever happened to him.

Clyde shuddered. No. He wouldn't let himself think like that. Finally, his eyes had decided to notice the chunky cell phone that Craig had owned for years, just laying on the carpeted floor.

He blinked owlishly and fumbled to pick it up, whipping his head around. It had been dropped directly in front of a tightly sealed door. Another room maybe? No, they would have investigated inside if that were the case. It must have been some sort of storage.

Clyde pressed his ear against the door briefly, listening for anything. He heard quiet breathing, and his mouth twisted into a frown.

He tried the door knob and found that it was locked from the outside. Goddamnit, he didn't have a key. He took in a deep breath and took a few steps away from the door.

"Look out Craig– I'm coming!" He hollered wildly before bursting forward to ram the door. A split second before his shoulder had even made contact, there was a small click and the door both unlocked and opened slightly.

Clyde stumbled to catch himself, as the door had pushed open much easier than anticipated. Hadn't that door been locked just a second ago? Before the unease could fully sink in, Clyde caught sight of his best friend sitting on the floor of the small closet. Craig looked dazed, but very aware that Clyde had just done something stupid.

"Dude, wha–" Craig was cut off by Clyde sliding to the floor and giving him a bone crushing hug.

"Asshole! I thought you  _ died _ !" Clyde wailed, clearly distraught. Craig's sympathetic expression immediately dropped and he blinked at Clyde slowly.

"You assumed I was dead 5 minutes into my disappearance?" He asked blandly, looking at Clyde with disbelief. He couldn't be mad when Clyde was pouting at him like a puppy though.

"I was scaaared." He whined with a slump of his shoulders. He began to loosen his hold on Craig, a bit disappointed that the hug hadn't been reciprocated. He supposed that his hopes were too high. "Let's get out of this dingey closet." He huffed, nose scrunching. Craig looked briefly confused,

"Yeah, okay. Why'd you close the door behind you? Did you check it wasn't locked again?" Craig had begun his questioning, but Clyde was already absorbed in the first question. His eyes went wide and he desperately craned his neck to peer at the closet door. Very much closed.

"I– I didn't." He stammered, suddenly turning back to Craig with his eyes blown wide.

"I didn't close the door."

Careful arms wrapping around Clyde's torso quelled any tears threatening to fall and silenced his babbling. A ghost, a demon, whatever Clyde thought it was, was fucking with them mercilessly. It's not a good time. This isn't a good time. You shouldn't do this.

Craig stalled anxiously before his desires got the better of him. He pressed a small kiss to Clyde's lips, warm and light. He pulled away, just an inch, and held his breath. He sat on the silence for a moment.

"Calm down." He mumbled simply, worrying that his heart beat loud enough for Clyde to hear. "We'll be fine. Jimmy lives like a half hour away, we can call him to get us out." He said, hating how his voice tremors slightly. He feels Clyde shift closer in the darkness and he bites down on his tongue.

Clyde remained much too silent, but his hands gently gripped onto Craig's shirt. He bit his lip and began feeling around for Craig's phone. He knew he brought it in here somewhere..

Clyde had made his home in Craig's lap and it still felt like he hadn't breathed since the kiss. Feeling Clyde lean into his chest relaxed him slightly. But they still refused to bring it up.

Finally, Clyde located Craig's phone and turned on the ancient technology. Thousands of flustered thoughts ran through his head, but one screamed at him as the phone brightness blinded him.

"I'm your phone background?" 

And there it was, his own face staring back at him. It was shitty camera work, clearly a buzzed selfie at some party where Clyde had stolen the phone. And Craig  _ had _ to have been high, since he was actually smiling at the camera. Well, at Clyde. But, he couldn't remember there being weed at that party.

Clyde stiffened a bit with a blush. He tilted his head to the side and eyed Craig with his peripherals.

His friend's face (do friends kiss??) Was illuminated by the phone light. And Craig smiled down at the picture. That same, big softie smile. 

Clyde realized that Craig definitely wasn't high when he smiled at him like that.

"Yeah. I uh, liked the picture. The lighting is nice." Craig said this with a low hum. "You look good in it." He said like an afterthought. But it was an afterthought that was not ignored, as Clyde's lips were suddenly on his own. It was too much pressure and much too stiff, but it was all Clyde.

And Clyde was good enough for him.

Craig felt himself relax and quickly reciprocate the messy kiss. It was warm and the closet became stuffier, you could say that Craig wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings at the moment though. Clyde was taking up his whole view, eyes squeezed shut like he was concentrating on not fucking up. The only light source was the phone's brightness, but Craig felt like he could analyze every feature of Clyde's pretty face in the dark.

Clyde was the first to pull away, frowning petulantly. 

"You stopped kissing back." He whined and oh. Craig liked that tone of voice. But soon enough he was realizing that he  _ had  _ gotten distracted trying to count Clyde's eyelashes. He must have slowed down too much for Clyde. 

"Ah. Sorry." Craig rasped and brushed a few messy locks of hair behind Clyde's ear.

"I was looking at your face." He said stupidly, still a bit dazed.

Clyde's nose scrunched and a blush lit up his cheeks.

"I'm your phone screen and best friend since beginning of college– haven't you gotten enough of my face?" He asked with a small huff, watching as Craig smiled lazily.

"You'd think so. But if I can watch you eat three tacos at once and still love your stupid face, I think that's saying something." He hummed. 

Clyde's grip on the front of Craig's shirt tightened, a strangled squeak of surprise following shortly.

"Love?" Clyde swallowed thickly. Craig leant in close and he could feel a warm puff of air brushing over his lips.

"Love."

–– **Bonus** ––

They were at it again. A quick call to Jimmy and they could barely keep their lips off each other. Craig liked to bite and Clyde liked to touch all over– both things they would have never known about each other before now. You could say it was a bit experimental and unexpected.

One thing Clyde definitely didn't expect though was a firm squeeze to his ass.

He gasped sharply and was quick to push Craig away by the shoulders.

" _ Craig!! _ " Clyde yelped, his face burning with embarrassment. "watch it! We just started the whole kissing thing, man. Keep it in your pants." He scolded, face screwing up.

Craig wasn't exactly against a little bit of roughness in the whole kissing scene, but he looked quite confused with all the shoving and yelling.

"What?" He asked plainly and Clyde looked like he might just strangle Craig.

"You grabbed a  _ whole _ handful of my ass, dude. Your hands are cold as fuck too."

"No, I didn't?"

Both boys froze.

Maybe a ghostly threesome wasn't too far fetched of a concept as they had once thought.

**Author's Note:**

> OooOOoOOo sPoOky. Tell me if you liked it or maybe want some more. This took me literal months because I cannot write long stories for the life of me lmao,, have a good day/night!


End file.
